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Because she’d never survive losing Trent twice.

Jocelyn rose to her feet and squeezed Reese’s shoulder. “Just remember one thing—if you can’t drink it away, cry it away, paint it away, or eat enough ice cream to drown it, it just might be too real to be forgotten. After all, you do still have that lighthouse he gave you ten years ago hanging from your rearview mirror,” Jocelyn pointed out before she walked back inside the gallery.

The lighthouse. He’d given it to her on their third date.

And as she glanced at the painting she was working on and the two other canvases propped against the railing beside her, she realized she’d painted that lighthouse into every single picture.

* * *

TRENT FOUND HIS parents talking with his brother Derek in his father’s office.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Never, honey.” His mother, Abby, hugged him. “We’re just going over our options for hiring a marketing company to handle the resort.”

“Well, that sounds like more fun than the wild-goose chase I’m on. Chandler asked me for the deed to the resort.”

“What on earth does he need the deed for?” Derek asked as he rose from his chair.

Although Derek had agreed to be a part of the resort takeover and to live on the island for one year, he still hadn’t fully embraced the situation. His resentment toward their grandfather was evident in his stormy dark eyes.

“He wouldn’t tell me. And when I called the courthouse, I learned that the deed transfer giving Chandler ownership of the resort was never filed. I called his office to find out what the hell is going on, but his assistant told me he wasn’t available. Dad, do you know where the legal documents might be?”

His father, Griffin, frowned. “As far as I know, the deed should have been kept with the rest of the legal documents. Abby, honey, you’re better with names than I am. Who was the resort’s last legal counsel?”

Trent’s parents had always been openly affectionate, with each other as well as their children. They’d also always been integral parts of each other’s lives on every level. Just like Reese and I once were.

“Robert Faison was the last person to run the department. You remember him,” Abby answered. “He was a heavyset, balding man. He passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack about… Could it have been eight or nine years ago now?”

“That sounds about right,” Griffin said.

“He worked for your great-grandfather for many years, and stayed on after Chandler took over,” Abby explained to Trent. “Griff, after he passed away, weren’t a number of his files archived to the basement with the reorganization?”

Griffin kissed the back of Abby’s hand. “I can always count on you to remember everything.”

He turned to Trent. “Ask Irene about it. She manages the archives. I’m sure she’ll know where those files are.”

Thoughts of the deed went out the window as his parents’ unrelenting commitment sent his mind spiraling back to Reese and the promise they’d made on their wedding day.

I promise to always love you. Forever.

It was a promise that sounded so simple. However, in the wake of their painful divorce, he’d ended up believing it was actually the most difficult promise in the world to keep.

But now that he’d held Reese in his arms again and had gotten lost staring into her beautiful brown eyes, he finally realized the truth: It was a promise that he’d always kept.

Because he still loved her.

And he’d love her forever.

Chapter Four

THE HIDEAWAY WAS one of the most happening spots on Rockwell Island. Owned by Sierra Rockwell and decorated with local artwork, it was also one of the friendliest gathering places in town. The interior boasted wide-planked hardwood floors, rough wood walls, high ceilings with iron chandeliers, a cherrywood bar, and a covered patio with gorgeous bay views.

“I am so glad I moved to the island,” Shelley Walters said. “Every day is like an adventure, with the changing tides and the tourists coming and going.”

This was Shelley’s first time joining them for girls’ night, and she instantly fit in. She was vivacious, funny, and easy to talk to, not to mention stunning, with a mass of dark, curly hair and a bright outlook.

Reese had never imagined Trent’s younger brother Quinn, who had always worked at least as many hours as Trent, would change his workaholic ways. But now that she’d gotten to know Shelley a little better, she understood why he had. Shelley’s energy and positive outlook were contagious.

“In fact, one of the things I was most hoping for here was girls’ nights out. When did you guys start doing them?” Shelley asked.

“Jocelyn, Annabelle, and I were in the same graduating class at Rockwell High,” Reese told her, “and Sierra was a year behind us. We used to be really good about getting together every week, but life kind of got in the way, so now we do it as often as we can. Of course, when we were younger, we had study dates, not drink dates.”

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